On Equal Ground
by Hylander McLeod
Summary: set during Trust and Betrayal. After hearing Tomoe tell her story, Kenshin shares his own past.


Disclaimer Rurouni Kenshin belongs to Watsuki.

I make no profit from writing this even though I do like Kenshin x Tomoe pairing.

This fic is based on the OVA. Can be read a precursor to Trials of the Heart or as a stand alone fic.

* * *

"These are my secrets. Now you know who I am."

 _No, not all the secrets. Not truly._

Yukishiro Tome knows this. She knows the full truth of what she is hiding and yet she cannot bring herself to say. She cannot stare into the eyes of the young man across from her and say the one truth she has long hidden. The one she knew long before she met him.

She knows not what is holding back; what's keeping her lips from speaking the words.

 _You killed my fiancé._

 _I am plotting your death_

Words. Nothingbut words, the truest and sincere, and she cannot bring herself it.

Why?

They are not married. It is but a ruse; a guise they are living under. A pretense, set up Katsura, his leader, so as to escape detection; to blend in and survive until the fight resumes again. It will cease once that happens there'll be no more for it.

There is no real need for loyalty. If anything her loyalty should remain to that of her deceased betrothed. The very person this young boy- this child- had killed.

So why does she stay silent?

Perhaps it is because he is a child. These aren't the words a child was to be told

And yet- even a child could commit murder.

Perhaps it is she. Perhaps she does not wish to remember for speaking it would not ease her pain.

She didn't stop him from going to Kyoto. Didn't tell him he had no need to prove himself; to try and be something other than who he was then, as if he thought doing so would make him a better man in her eyes.

All she needed do was ask him to stay.

She stayed silent. And her love had been killed.

And she stays silent now; hiding what she knows is the inevitable truth.

They both sit in silence for several minutes.

"My name is Shinta" he says, breaking it. "My birth name at least. I was born to simple peasant farmers. One autumn season, cholera struck my village. Of my whole family, I alone had survived. I was seven years old."

Her silent mask breaks, sorrow and sympathy evident, but is not finished.

He continues, telling her of his sale into slavery by the village head family, as they had no desire to be burdened with even one mouth to feed. He speaks of the gruesome night, of the bandit hoard attacking the slave caravan, killing slave and enslaver, man and woman, alike of his lone survival, whether by fate's fortune or cruel joke, solely due to the one he earlier called master Hiko had been passing through, the master swordsman taking under his wing with a new name and of his training, though keeping it obscure; saying nothing other than he was "trained in the way of the sword", and of their parting. He tells her of his first encounter with Katsura, the one who had given the name of Himura. Given, so as he would not be different from the others; a symbol of the equality among classes that was to come. He ends the tale of ritual killings, an act that tore his soul apart, yet he continued, all for the sake of the promise, and how for the first time he now feels at peace- because of her.

 _Master Hiko was right. You can't protect people with murder._

She understands now. Though she wishes she didn't.

She initially thought him a monster. The picture she had painted herself, akin with all other feudal supporters and their views of the patriots. Yet she now knew of his reasons. He had become a shadow assassin for the sole purpose of not having fate deal the same hand to another as it had to him.

This does nothing to ease her inner turmoil.

He spoke of protecting the weak and innocent. Yet he gave no thought to the innocent on the opposite, those like her who would be dealt fate's cold cruel blow, an indirect result of his actions. He couldn't at the time.

It doesn't make her hidden truth any easier to let go of.

"Why tell me this?" she asks softly.

"You spoke of your story." He answers. "I thought I should share my own."

For several seconds neither one says a word.

She smiles. "It's a nice name … Shinta."

And so, she finds herself even more conflicted. She does not know what do make of it.

* * *

Man does it feel good to be writing again. Constellations has been on hold for so long but I am now finally ready to add to it. I'd like to have at least one chapter ready by the end of the week but I am not sure. Too many ideas all unconnected make for a terrible obstacle.


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